


One of Nature's Wonder Foods!

by Ralkana



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, Insecure Phil, M/M, Marriage, Minorly Mortifying Circumstances, Post-Avengers, SHIELD Husbands, Trope Bingo Round 2, oh PHIL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralkana/pseuds/Ralkana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is not about to just overlook a sudden change in Phil's diet, especially when it seems to come with some odd behavior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of Nature's Wonder Foods!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer ~ Marvel's toys, not mine. I'm just playing.
> 
> Thanks go in general to all of Feelschat for answering my strange berry-related questions with no knowledge of why, and in particular to AlyKat for being awesome. This bunny is really all her fault. Somehow. :P
> 
> This fills the "marriage" square on my Trope Bingo Round 2 card.

 

Clint lounged sleepily at the table with his coffee and toast, watching Phil make his breakfast. Watching his husband do pretty much anything was by far his favorite hobby. Better than TV.

Phil measured out exactly one cup of fresh blueberries, and Clint's eyes narrowed as Phil's shoulders went very still for two heartbeats before he poured the berries into his bowl of cornflakes.

People thought that Agent Coulson was unflappable and emotionless, that he had no tells, and that might have been true for people who hadn't devoted the time to watching him that Hawkeye had, and maybe to those who didn't have his vision.

Phil didn't have _many_ tells, it was true, but that shoulder hitch, that was a big one. That was how Phil reacted before he had to do something distasteful, like dress down a junior agent who really should have known better, or tell a lie he didn't condone in order to protect operational security.

There was no good reason for him to react to his hand-chosen breakfast that way, and Clint's curiosity was piqued.

Phil carried his bowl of cereal and his coffee to the table, catching Clint's eye on the way. His lip curled into a fond smile, and Clint found himself automatically smiling back.

Smile sliding into something sly, he ran his bare toe along Phil's calf as Phil crunched into his cornflakes. Phil narrowed his eyes as he swallowed.

"Got no time for you this morning, so behave."

"Aww. Sure?" Clint cajoled as he sipped the last of his coffee.

Phil sighed. "Yes. Believe me, I'd much rather tumble you over our sheets than go to this budget meeting."

"Saying something like that's not the best way to get me to behave."

He laughed at the wry face Phil made, running his toe playfully along Phil's leg again and sticking his tongue out at Phil's stern Agent Coulson expression.

Phil picked at his breakfast, eating much slower than usual, and Clint shoved down the panic that tried to rise.

One slowly eaten meal did not signal a loss of appetite, and just because it had taken Phil months to fully regain his appetite after the injury that had almost killed him, it didn't mean this was the beginning of a relapse.

Still, he couldn't manage to keep all of the concern out of his voice when he asked, "Something wrong with your breakfast?"

Phil's head shot up from the contemplation of his cereal, which in itself was very revealing. "What? No, it's fine."

Eyeing the bowl of cornflakes rapidly going soggy, Clint shook his head. "No idea how you can eat those with no sugar."

Phl poked at a blueberry with his spoon. "Nature's sugar," he said dryly. "And a lifetime of practice."

Clint thought of his box of Lucky Charms tucked away in the cupboard. "No Cookie Crisp in the Coulson household, I take it?"

"Major Coulson was not a proponent of sugary cereals for his children, no."

His cheeks went slightly pink in a way that never failed to charm Clint. "Didn't really mind, to tell you the truth. The box -- "

"Lemme guess," Clint interrupted with a laugh. "The box featured young Phillip's idol, and bright shades of red, white, and blue."

Phil ducked his head, grinning. "Sometimes. Still does, occasionally, much to Steve's chagrin," he said, and Clint laughed again.

He reached over and nabbed a plump blueberry out of Phil's bowl. It was perfect -- tart and sweet and juicy -- and he didn't even try to stifle the happy noise it teased out of him.

Phil nudged a second one toward him with his spoon before he took another bite of his soggy cereal.

Watching him slowly finish his cereal, Clint decided that something was definitely up. It required more observation, which was fine with him.

Studying Phil was what he did best.

 

**~ ~ ~ ~ ~**

 

Three weeks later, Clint stood on the range, going through the reflexive mindlessness of basic form maintenance as he mulled over his conclusions.

Phil ate cereal every weekday for breakfast -- that was nothing new. Three times a week now, he dumped a cup of blueberries in his bowl, and on those days, he did not seem to enjoy his breakfast nearly as much.

On a hunch, Clint had bought strawberries, then raspberries, then blackberries. Phil seemed to appreciate them as a snack or dessert, but they never made it into his cereal. Breakfast was reserved for blueberries, which Phil clearly disliked but continued eating anyway, even when he was given alternatives.

He might've thought the blueberries were an edict from Phil's doctors and the SHIELD nutritionists, but he knew from experience that they were excellent at offering alternatives, since they actually _wanted_ their guidelines and suggestions to be followed.

And, Clint had seen Phil blatantly ignore their advice and meal plans in the past if he disliked something in them or felt they weren't effective.

Clint frowned, his last arrow thudding into the target to complete a matching frowny face. More research was needed before he went to Phil with his observations.

Securing his weapons, he grabbed a quick shower and then settled in the senior agents' break room with a cup of coffee and his phone.

He googled "health benefits of blueberries" and when that returned way too many hits, narrowed it down to "health benefits of blueberries for men".

The first two hits told the whole story, and he laughed softly.

"Oh, Phil," he murmured, completely unable to help the fond exasperation in his tone.

 _Enhance Your Sex Life Naturally With These Five Wonder Foods!_ the first headline blared, and the second helpfully added, _Mother Nature's Little Blue Pill_.

Clint slumped back in his chair, sipped his coffee, and quietly contemplated how to murder Tony Stark.

 

**~ ~ ~ ~ ~**

 

Clint waited until Phil had finished measuring precisely one cup of blueberries, and then he took the measuring cup from his husband's hand and dumped the berries back in the container.

"Clint!"

"You hate them."

"What? No, I don't!"

"Phil," Clint said flatly. He slid in between Phil and the counter, pulling Phil to stand between his legs. "You hate them."

"They're good for me," Phil said unconvincingly, avoiding Clint's gaze. "I'll... learn to like them."

"It was the nicknames, wasn't it?" Clint asked quietly, and when he got no reply, he added, with a sigh, "Stark's stupid nicknames."

It seemed to be Tony's current mission in life to come up with a rota of nicknames for the entire team and its regular support staff -- a rota designed to make them all want to cheerfully shoot him, taze him, or toss him into a wall.

His latest attempt, debuting around the time of Phil's birthday, had been a matched pair.

 _Agent Cradle Robber_ and _Agent Boytoy_ had only lasted as long as it had taken Bruce to calmly observe that there was a larger age gap between Pepper and Tony than there was between Phil and Clint, but clearly, the damage had been done. Several days after that, Phil had started choking down the blueberries with his breakfast.

"Phillip Coulson," Clint said, his laugh a little rueful as he took his husband's flushed cheeks in his hands, "You are _unbelievable_ sometimes! You are not a cradle robber, I am not your freakin’ boy toy, and I am perfectly happy and completely satisfied. Absolutely nothing in our sex life needs to be enhanced or helped."

Still blushing furiously, Phil raised mortified eyes to Clint's, searching wordlessly for reassurance.

Clint stroked a hand through Phil's hair before cupping the back of his neck.

"Neither one of us is eighteen, Phil, and we lead pretty fucking strenuous lives. It's not like I'm rarin' to go four times a night either. Are _you_ unsatisfied?"

The face Phil made was eloquent enough, pulling a chuckle from Clint, even without his added, "Are you joking?"

"Have I _ever_ given you the impression that I am?"

Phil, being Phil, took a moment to think before he answered. "Not that I'm aware of. But -- "

"Then believe me when I tell you that I am never left wanting, babe." He rested his forehead against Phil's. "You wear me out, old man."

Phil scowled at him, and Clint laughed. "Less of the 'old man' or you'll be left wanting for a month," Phil growled.

"I love you," Clint told him, and the way Phil's eyes went soft at the words never failed to make Clint's heart speed up.

He pulled Phil closer and kissed him, trying to pour into it everything he felt, all the joy and deep contentment he could never put into words.

Phil's fingers gripped his biceps as he leaned into the kiss, and what had started soft and sweet quickly turned heated.

The tiny sounds Phil made in the back of his throat had Clint surging against him, hands sliding down to cup Phil's ass and pull him even closer.

The kiss went on and on, long, and slow, and hot, and it was only when Clint knocked the plastic container over with his elbow, scattering blueberries everywhere, that they finally broke apart.

Phil was flushed and panting, his eyes dark and wild, and from the way those eyes raked hungrily over Clint, Clint imagined he looked much the same.

"Screw breakfast," Phil growled, nipping at Clint's jaw.

Clint's breath hitched, fingers gripping Phil's waist tightly. "No meetings?" he asked hoarsely.

"This particular breakfast meeting takes precedence," Phil shot back as he turned away, reaching behind him to hook a finger in the waistband of Clint's sweats and tug him along.

"It's certainly at the top of _my_ agenda," Clint murmured, happily watching his husband's ass as he stalked toward the bedroom.

**END**

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> [This](http://www.menshealth.com/mhlists/foods_for_sex/Blueberries.php), by the way, is the article that spawned this plot bunny, when AlyKat was helping me with research for an entirely different fic.


End file.
